The Crisis | Page 3

gentleman. There was no mistaking
the gentleman. He was cool, which Eliphalet was not. And the fact is
the more remarkable because the gentleman was attired according to
the fashion of the day for men of his age, in a black coat with a teal of
ruffled shirt showing, and a heavy black stock around his collar. He had
a white mustache, and a goatee, and white hair under his black felt hat.
His face was long, his nose straight, and the sweetness of its smile had
a strange effect upon Eliphalet, who stood on one foot.
"Well, sonny, scared of mules, are you?" The speech is a stately drawl

very different from the nasal twang of Eliphalet's bringing up. "Reckon
you don't come from anywhere round here?"
"No, sir," said Eliphalet. "From Willesden, Massachusetts."
"Come in on the 'Louisiana'?"
"Yes, sir." But why this politeness?
The elderly gentleman lighted a cigar. The noise of the rushing mules
had now become a distant roar, like a whirlwind which has swept by.
But Eliphalet did not stir.
"Friends in town?" inquired the gentleman at length.
"No, sir," sighed Mr. Hopper.
At this point of the conversation a crisp step sounded from behind and
wonderful smile came again on the surface.
"Mornin', Colonel," said a voice which made Eliphalet jump. And he
swung around to perceive the young captain of the Louisiana.
"Why, Captain Lige," cried the Colonel, without ceremony, "and how
do you find yourself to-day, suh? A good trip from Orleans? We did
not look for you so soon."
"Tolluble, Colonel, tolluble," said the young man, grasping the
Colonel's hand. "Well, Colonel, I just called to say that I got the
seventy bales of goods you wanted."
"Ephum" cried the Colonel, diving toward a counter where glasses
were set out,--a custom new to Eliphalet,--"Ephum, some of that very
particular Colonel Crittenden sent me over from Kentucky last week."
An old darkey, with hair as white as the Colonel's, appeared from
behind the partition.
"I 'lowed you'd want it, Marse Comyn, when I seed de Cap'n comin',"

said he, with the privilege of an old servant. Indeed, the bottle was
beneath his arm.
The Colonel smiled.
"Hope you'se well, Cap'n," said Ephum, as he drew the cork.
"Tolluble, Ephum," replied the Captain. "But, Ephum Say, Ephum!"
"Yes, sah."
"How's my little sweetheart, Ephum?"
"Bress your soul, sah," said Ephum, his face falling perceptibly, "bress
your soul, sah, Miss Jinny's done gone to Halcyondale, in Kaintuck, to
see her grandma. Ole Ephum ain't de same nigger when she's away."
The young Captain's face showed as much disappointment as the
darkey's.
"Cuss it!" said he, strongly, "if that ain't too bad! I brought her a Creole
doll from New Orleans, which Madame Claire said was dressed finer
than any one she'd ever seen. All lace and French gewgaws, Colonel.
But you'll send it to her?"
"That I will, Lige," said the Colonel, heartily. "And she shall write you
the prettiest note of thanks you ever got."
"Bless her pretty face," cried the Captain. "Her health, Colonel! Here's
a long life to Miss Virginia Carvel, and may she rule forever! How old
did you say this was?" he asked, looking into the glass.
"Over half a century," said Colonel Carvel.
"If it came from the ruins of Pompeii," cried Captain Brent, "it might
be worthy of her!"
"What an idiot you are about that child, Lige," said the Colonel, who
was not hiding his pleasure. The Colonel could hide nothing. "You ruin

her!"
The bluff young Captain put down his glass to laugh.
"Ruin her!" he exclaimed. "Her pa don't ruin her I eh, Ephum? Her pa
don't ruin her!"
"Lawsy, Marse Lige, I reckon he's wuss'n any."
"Ephum," said the Colonel, pulling his goatee thoughtfully, "you're a
damned impertinent nigger. I vow I'll sell you South one of these days.
Have you taken that letter to Mr. Renault?" He winked at his friend as
the old darkey faded into the darkness of the store, and continued: "Did
I ever tell you about Wilson Peale's portrait of my grandmother,
Dorothy Carvel, that I saw this summer at my brother Daniel's, in
Pennsylvania? Jinny's going to look something like her, sir. Um! She
was a fine woman. Black hair, though. Jinny's is brown, like her Ma's."
The Colonel handed a cigar to Captain Brent, and lit one himself.
"Daniel has a book my grandfather wrote, mostly about her. Lord, I
remember her! She was the queen-bee of the family while she lived. I
wish some of us had her spirit."
"Colonel," remarked Captain Lige, "what's this I heard on the levee just
now about your shootin' at a man named Babcock on the steps here?"
The Colonel became very grave. His face seemed to grow longer as he